we make a peach of a pear

Popsicles are the perfect summer treat!  Whether you are a plain Jane or an adventurous Annie, Nashville's Las Paletas never disappoints.  In the heart of  the12th South district, this local gem offers cream and fruit-based pops in standard flavors, as well as gourmet pairings.  After our trip in, we were inspired to run our own popsicle test kitchen!   

We pulled together a colorful supply of tools and ingredients.  Although we invested in some re-usable popsicle molds, you can always get creative with what you have on hand!  Remember Pee Wee Herman's ice-cube-tray-and-toothpick pops?  Our ingredients consisted of fresh, seasonal fruit and various base items, such as yogurt and fruit juice.  Since you are mashing up the fruit, this is a great way to use items inching past the ripeness point of no return.

Go classic with one-ingredient pops, as well as experiment with some flavor mixtures.  This is a fun project you can do solo or with friends.  Here's hoping we enjoy eating our popsicles half as much as we enjoyed making them!

tales of grace: no place like home

“Don’t you dare start getting ready without me!” Chloe said as I hung up the phone. She had called to let me know her plane from San Fran has just landed at BNA and she had arranged for a car and driver from our condo to pick her up. Glancing at myself in the mirror I knew we were not going to make our 8:30 pm dinner reservation. It was already 6:45 pm, I looked like hell, and Chloe barely had both feet in Tennessee. It was ok, though. The restaurant in our building was incredible and much more convenient. And I know Chloe wouldn’t dream of turning down their martinis.

In three years of living together, the last twelve days were the longest Chlo and I had been apart. We moved to Nashville together about a month ago, but she had to return to San Fran for a work trip. She was lucky enough to get hired on at A+P’s sister site, Corporation, here in Nashville, which meant she essentially got to keep doing the job she had during her internship… now she just got paid for it. Her schedule in San Fran was ridiculous, so we hadn’t had a chance to do much talking.  She hadn’t heard a thing about my first week at Non Profit.

I had been standing in my closet, staring at my clothes, for what felt like only moments, when I heard the front door open.

“Chlo!” I squealed as we embraced. Hugging her neck, I breathed in the smell of the coconut extract shampoo in her beautiful, red popular girl hair.  No one dresses for travel as impeccably as Chloe.  As she stepped back to sit down her luggage, I couldn’t help but admire her new outfit.

“Girl, I am going to miss California shopping so much,” she said. And she was right; the style of the South was very different than the West Coast, and I had some perfect examples of that just from my first week of work at Non-Profit. But just as I was getting ready to share the past week's "fashion don'ts" with her, Chloe started talking about her boyfriend, Bryson, and the dates they went on in California. I instinctively flinched. Was Chloe saying that she had time in San Fran to go out with Bryson multiple times, but she was too busy working to catch up with me, her BFF?

Chloe's recapping of her romantic escapades lasted the whole two hours it took us to get ready. As we finally made our way down to the bar, I reminded her that I had just had my first week at work. “All week was new hire orientation,” I explained, “which means we watched videos on equal employment and drug free work environments. Most of the people there are really nice. There is this one girl, Charity, who seems super sweet. She invited me to bring my lunch one day and eat in the staff lounge with her so that we could get to know each other.”

“Bring your lunch to the staff lounge? What is this…elementary school?” Chloe chortled. “My new supervisor is taking me to The Cat Bird Seat Monday evening for my first day in the Nashville office. The only thing more outrageous then their menu is the wait list to even get into the place.  Did they even treat you to a fabulous anything on your first day?!”

Silently, I shook my head as Chloe snapped at the bartender for her martini to be freshened.  “That just doesn’t make sense to me,” she said with a toss of her hair. “Treating a new hire to dinner and drinks is just proper etiquette.”  

I squared my shoulders, and with a twinkle in my eye retorted in my best faux Southern drawl, "Dah-ling, we're not in Kansas anymore."

Chloe let out a high peel of laughter. "It sounds like that is exactly where you are."

what kind of bird are you?

Check it out.

{a sweet} deal

Even though I love the convenience of Netflix and Redbox-type offerings, there is just something bewitching about the experience of going to an actual movie theater.  Maybe it's the razzly dazzly junior high this-is-the-place-to-see-and-be-seen energy that always seems to exist.  Or the great game areas to kill surplus time before or after the film (how else would I have ever honed my mad Dance, Dance Revolution skills?!). Concessions are a real factor for me, too.  That hot, buttery popcorn and a cold, fizzy fountain soda are a must.  I also love getting there early to stake out seats (preferably ones by the railing so I can prop up my feet).  And, when the lights dim and you settle into your chair as you prepare to be whisked away for the next couple of hours...pure joy! 

But, the only thing more painful than the very end of a great movie is the price tag.  

Allison and I found a wonderful solution for this in the form of a Dollar or Discounted Theater.  Here in Nashville, we have Carmike Hickory 8.  Do some internet research to see what cool deals you can find in your area.  Lots of these places even sweeten the deal with weekly specials.  Our $2-a-movie theater offers a Stimulus Tuesday package.  On Tuesdays, you can get $1.50 a piece stimulus drink and popcorn and $5 off concession combos, for those of you nacho lovers out there.

So the next time you want the BIG movie theater experience without the BIG movie theater price tag, check out a discounted theater...and don't forget  your concessions!

waiting {four} winds

britches and hose

Tired of the same old Saturday night routine?  Sounds like you could use a little Roooollllllleeerrrrrrrrr Derby action!  We recently frequented Nashville's Municipal Auditorium on a Saturday night and it was a lovely thing.  If Broadway's Honky Tonks aren't your thing, look no further for your alternative scene.  A real "come as you are" atmosphere welcomes you and the concessions ain't bad. 

We took to the upper level for an eagle eye view of the action. Surprised by the fast paced Jams, we were grateful for the provided educational materials (i.e. programs) with game rosters, Jam rules and roller girl profiles.  Our favorite part of the evening was a heart-felt goodbye to one of Nashville's long standing Roller Girls, Rambo Sambo.  She was a killer Jammer, often assisted by Blocker extraordinaire and another of our top picks, Britches and Hose.  Serious dynamic duo.

     

Mark your calendars!  Next home bout is July 7th.  Game 1 starts at 5:30 pm, Game 2 at 7:30 pm.  You can purchase tickets for $10 in advance or $15 at the door (bring cash).  See you there*

Tales of Grace: First Day {of My Life}

All morning I questioned the amount of eyeliner I should wear. My mom told me once that I look like a “lady of the night” after putting on makeup while nervous.

“Please, Lord, don’t let them think I look like a tramp,” I said aloud to myself. “I can do this.” The last thing I needed was for my new co-workers to get the wrong impression of me on my first day. 

As I got out of the car, I started replaying my interview over again for the 3,016^th time. Mrs. Peoples seemed to like me and to believe I would be a good fit. I sure hope so.

iPhone, check. iPad, check. Favorite Pilot G2 blue ink pen, check. Alright, here goes nothing.

The Administrative Assistant greeted me warmly and took me upstairs. “Pat is with a client right now, but she asked me to have you wait in here until she is finished. She would like to meet with you briefly before your new employee training starts.”

As she walked away, I took advantage of the alone time to canvas my surroundings. The carpet was probably 15 years old and stains littered the areas not covered by various pieces of mismatched and outdated furniture. A desktop computer sat abandoned on a corner desk, displaying an “out of order” sign as well as an impressive amount of dust. I was about to walk closer to inspect a painting that appeared to be of a three legged horse, when I heard “You must be Grace” come from behind me.

Turning, I saw a woman grinning from ear to ear standing in the doorway; late twenties, strikingly pretty, and not married. Come on, I’m 26 and single. I do ring checks on everyone.

I returned her enthusiastic grin, “Yes, I am. And you must be Pat.”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “My name is Charity. I am in the office next to yours and heard that you had arrived. I knew Pat was with someone, so I wanted to stop in to welcome you to Non-Profit.”

“Got it. And thank you, that is very kind,” I said. “What is it that you do here?” As Charity started describing her role as Client Satisfaction Coordinator, a tall, foreboding figure entered the room.

“Charity, give Grace and me some privacy.”

She spoke so quickly that she had entered the room, taken a seat and was looking expectedly at me before I could say goodbye to Charity.

I joined the woman, whom I assumed to be Pat, at the table and began to introduce myself.

“Yes, yes,” she interrupted. “I know who you are, where you came from, and what you think you have to offer Non-Profit. What you need to know is that I have been the Director of Public Image for nine years and I am not going anywhere. We have an established and reputable name in this city that I refuse to allow any new employee to tarnish. Do you understand?”

Before I could open my mouth to respond, she resumed speaking: “Your position is new, so there is no one to be your safety net while you train. I expect you to hit the ground running. And mind you, Grace, running in the right direction.”

The door opened and Charity stepped in. I was grateful for the momentary distraction. Pat was staring at me so intensely that I felt confident she knew what color underwear I had on.

Without a word, Pat rose from the table and exited the room.

Dumbfounded, I stood up from my seat and looked at Charity with a pleading look on my face, “Can you please point me in the direction of a very strong cup of coffee?”

A timid smile formed on her face, almost as if she had been asked that question a time or two. “I’m sorry, Grace,” Charity said. “We don’t have a coffee machine here at Non-Profit, but if you sneak over to the bank next door they have usually have a fresh pot.”

Blerg.

*Written by Allison Gibson

Edited by Sarah Warren